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Her whole body was electric, fueled by his intoxicating heat and he pushed her further and further until she could hold on no longer. Her final cry of ecstasy gave way to his, and she reveled in the sensation of him pulsing inside her. She would take all of him, drain him.
In the aftermath, they were quiet. Hades’ slick body rested against hers, and he slowly came off his high, as if his consciousness was returning to his body. It was then he seemed to realize he had lost his mind, that he had pumped into her so hard, they were crammed against the headboard.
He studied her and realized she was crying.
“Persephone.” A note of panic colored his voice. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she whispered, and covered her eyes. He hadn’t hurt her, and she didn’t know why she was crying. She just felt extremely emotional. She took in a shaky breath.
“No, you didn’t hurt me.”
After a moment, Hades pried her hand away from her eyes. She met his gaze as he brushed tears from her face.
She was relieved when he didn’t ask any more questions.
He moved to his side, and tucked her against him, covering them both with the blankets. He kissed her hair and whispered, “You are too perfect for me.”
She felt like she had just fallen asleep when Hades sat up beside her. She felt cold immediately and rolled over, half asleep, to reach for him.
“Come back to bed,” she said.
“Get away from my daughter.” Demeter’s voice was deadly.
That roused her immediately. She sat up, clutching her blanket to her chest.
“Mother! Get out!”
Demeter’s chilling gaze fell upon Persephone and she saw the promise of pain—of destruction—in her eyes. She could see the headline now: Olympian Gods Battle, Destroy New Athens.
“How dare you.” Her voice shook, and Persephone wasn’t sure if she was talking to her or Hades—maybe both.
Persephone threw off the blankets and pulled on her nightshirt. Hades remained sitting in the bed.
“How long?” she questioned.
“It’s really none of your business, mother,” Persephone snapped.
Her mother’s eyes darkened. “You forget your place, daughter.”
“And you forget my age,” Persephone said. “I am not a child!”
“You are my child and you have betrayed my trust.”
Persephone knew what was about to happen. She could feel her mother’s magic building in the air.
“No, mother!” Persephone became frantic. She looked to Hades, desperate for his help. He looked back, tense but calm—it did nothing to ease her fear.
“You will no longer live this disgraceful, mortal life!”
Persephone closed her eyes, cringing as Demeter snapped her fingers, but instead of teleporting to the glass prison like she expected, nothing happened. Slowly, she opened her eyes and straightened, looking at her mother who was also confused. Then Demeter’s eyes narrowed on Persephone’s gold cuff. The goddess struck, snatching her forearm. Gripping too hard, she pulled the bracelet from her wrist and revealed the darkness marking her creamy skin.
“What did you do?” Demeter demanded. This time, she looked at Hades.
“Don’t touch me!” Persephone tried to wrench away, but Demeter’s hold tightened, and Persephone cried out.
“Release her, Demeter.” Hades’ voice was calm, but there was something deadly in his eyes. Persephone had seen that look before—rage was building inside him.
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do with my daughter!”
